


Whispers in the Dark

by Arikethtae



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Praise Kink, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 15:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17428610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arikethtae/pseuds/Arikethtae
Summary: He needed no God to answer his prayers or hear his whispers in the dark, not while he had Mr. Graves. There was no other God, only Mr. Graves - for he was everything. The air in his lungs and the ground upon which he stood. And oh, how Credence worshipped him.





	Whispers in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetSorcery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/gifts).



> Additional warnings:
> 
> Credence has a bit of a sexual and religious awakening. Perhaps a worship kink as well.  
> Overstimulation.
> 
> A/N: This is unbetaed. Please read at your own risk :p

His mother had been right - to an extent. 

God obviously found him wanting. He had to, to torture him like this. Credence had tried so hard to deny sin its grip on him. Every night was spent on his knees, begging for salvation. But God was cruel to continuously offer him such temptation and still expect him to leave such wantonness desires unfulfilled. His mother had promised his soul to the devil upon his death but Credence remained alive and still every breath was hell.

His whole existence seemed to narrow down to one ray of hope. Mr. Graves had always been kind to him, even when another wore his face. Grindelwald had made him demanding and domineering; another force in his life that dictated his every move but one he found he craved instead of cowered from. Every time he was pushed into unforgiving brick, something in his bully unfurled wanting more. A hot wicked thing that made his skin tight and demanded to be free. 

It was no longer like that. Despite retaking back his life, Mr. Graves had not forsaken Credence. Perhaps because Credence had given him no choice. In his hour of need, broken and blooded, half-dead Credence had known no merciful god or condemnation - only Mr. Graves. 

He had no reason to help or offer safe-haven but perhaps Mr. Graves had seen himself in Credence's pitiful existence and had been blinded by his own tormentous experiences. They had both been torn apart by Grindelwald. Mr. Graves had lost his life and control over it, and himself, and Credence...Credence had lost the sanctity of his mind and his devotion to the church. 

Before they had nobody even when they were surrounded by hundreds of people. But now - now they had each other.

Life was very different for him now. Credence was left alone most days but he preferred it. At night Mr. Graves came for him, his voice soft and his movements slow. He taught him control and the ways of the world outside his window and outside the madness his mother had beaten into him. Yet Credence craved so much more from Mr. Graves. 

Grindelwald would always touch him when he wore Mr. Graves's face; he'd used his much larger form to intimidate and endear himself to Credence. 

The man he knew now, was nothing like that. He treated Credence like softly woven glass, as if he expect Credence to startle at the slightest movement.

Such actions and considerations only proved to spurn the fire that burned in his belly; the one that he could not name. His body quivering for more than the causal touches that Mr. Graves's gave him. 

Grindelwald had never touched him, but Credence desperately yearned for Mr. Graves to touch him - to defile him.

Sometimes late at night Credence gained the courage to voice his name - Percival. Shame always filled him as the fires of hell consumed him. His hips rutting against a mattress so soft, it was as if it was a cloud from Heaven. His movements were uncertain but needy as he strained against the bed beneath him. His chest rising and falling as sin spurned him onward to desecrate the good name of his salvation.

It never took long for Credence to cum, muffling his whimpers for his newfound god into his pillow. Shame flooding him as the Devil sighed happily at his soiled sheets.

In the morning his cheeks would flush dark as Mr. Graves bid him goodbye. HIs hand kind and trusting as it brushed over his shoulder or back in a silent promise to return to Credence. Often times without fail, the simple gesture had Credence pressed against the door, cock in hand as soon as it shut. His chin upturned, eyes towards the heavens as he whimpered. HIs hand too small and too slow to do anything but tease.

Credence couldn't help but bite his lip. Hips rolling needily as he craved a larger rougher hand. HIs thoughts drifting to a time when a man wearing Mr. Graves face had treated him like a pawn and not with caution. 

Mr. Graves was so good to him; he never raised his voice or criticized. He made him feel safe and cherished but Credence needed more. He wanted Mr. Graves to make him scream and cry, to demand some sacrifice or offering from him even though Credence had nothing to give to him...except his body.

It was always there, hovering between them or rather lurking within the hollow confines of Credence's chest. He yearned to be taken apart slowly and carefully put back together in Mr. Graves' likeness. It slid within insidious precision amongst his innermost desires, prompting the simplest touch to alight with fiery passion.

Every moment near Mr. Graves was bittersweet. His every breath a testament to Credence's self-control. His desires spiraling as he was hopelessly enthralled by the mere existence of the older man. 

Credence had never considered himself worthy of salvation but every moment he remained in Mr. Grave's care brought him closer to acceptance. Perhaps that was why he was slowly losing grasp with reality; temptation gnawing at him until he was prepared to lose the only sense of safety he'd ever been given. 

Whatever devil provoked him on a nightly basis, continued to goad him into more risky endeavors. Its persuasion pushing him further into depravity. Twisting every innocent moment into an opportunity for lustful exploration. 

Which is how he founded himself settling weary bones in Mr. Graves' sheets. A dreamy sigh overtaking him as his body grew lax, surrounded by the other man's unique scent.

Heat curled in his lower stomach as he buried his face in Mr. Graves' pillow. The sharp scent of sandalwood and orange going straight to his cock.

Logic dictated that he resist the urge but not even God's condemnation could persuade him away from his course of action.

His hand curling around his cock as his toes curled in anticipation. His eyes fluttering shut as he imagined it was Mr. Graves' hand stroking him so cautiously. 

His face scrunched as he realized his touch was too dry to be satisfying. The flush on his cheeks darkening as he shamelessly dug through his guardian's bedside drawer.

A pathetic whimper escaping him as he found what he was looking for. The mere thought of the older man lying where Credence currently was, engaging in the same wantonness actions. It only made his cock leak even more.

His hand, now adequately slick slid over his hardening length easily. His eyes rolling as he sped up the motions. Like most times he succumbed, he was too aroused to take his time.

All he wanted to do was cum - to spread his mess over his body and rub himself against the sheets beneath him. He wanted to leave his mark in a manner he dared not achieve with their owner.

He was almost there; hips lifting as the first wave of his orgasm rose within him but a noise broke him from his spell. 

Eyes opened in fear as Credence realized he was no longer alone, "Mr. Graves~" he managed before his orgasm struck suddenly. Horror filling him as a few streams of cum managing to stain his chest and chin. 

Credence scrambled to collect himself. Terror slamming into him as he continued paniacking, grabbing the now ruined sheets to his body. Dread rising as he realized just how exposed he truly was.

His mouth opened to give any excuse possible, but he never got the chance. Percival raised his hand; one finger moving side to side to silence him.

Credence bit his lip to prevent himself from talking. Hysteria dangerously close to the surface as he was observed silently.

"What is this Credence? Seems to me my care hasn't been quite thorough enough if you've been taking such liberties."

Immediately Credence opened his mouth to deny the claim. Mr. Graves was perfect and he longed to tell him so. It was Credence that was the problem. The devil called and Credence always answered happily, never offering any hesitation or reluctance. 

He never got the chance.

In what felt like a second, Mr. Graves had crossed the room and was now fingering the sheet clutched desperately to Credence's naked body, "Let me see what you're hiding Credence. It would be such a shame to hide a masterpiece such as yourself."

A shudder passed through Credence at the rough promise in Percival's voice. His cheeks darkening further as the sheeted slipped away. Any resistance he could have scraped together disintegrating as the man’s voice curled around him. In that moment he was utterly powerless and weak.

Percival's finger ran up Credence's stomach to tease his nipple into a stiff peak before scooping a small smear of cum from his trembling belly. 

All his reservations fled as his mouth fell open. The sight he had just witness entrancing him; the image of Mr. Graves lifting a cum-smeared finger to his mouth and tasting it burning into his very being.

"Mhm, delicious," Percival purred as he watched Credence carefully. A smirk crossing his face as Credence couldn't hold back a high-pitched whine.

Still looking smug, Percival grasped Credence's chin, pulling him closer in order to close the gasp. 

Their mouths meet clumsily as Credence struggled to mimic Mr. Graves' movements. Air quickly becoming an issue as he couldn't help but scramble closer. However, his attempts were thwarted quickly as Percival pulled away. 

"Not so fast little one. I think you deserve a little punishment before I give you what you want." 

Credence nodded almost violently, craving anything that Mr. Graves would give him. A shudder running through him as he was maneuvered onto all fours. He couldn’t help the spike of nerves as he was suddenly more exposed. His fingers tightening in the sheets as he realized there was absolutely no hiding from the other man's gaze in this position. The sudden vulnerability making him bury his head in his arms in a futile attempt to hide his embarrassment.

He jerked as a warm hand caressed his bottom. Mortification filling him as he was shushed. Mr. Graves' voice was soft as he soothed him, promising to reward him if he was good.

He wanted to be good. He wanted to be Mr. Graves' good boy. He wanted to be everything to the other man. 

Nodding into the pillow when he was prodded for consent. The gentleness in his touch causing his heart to tremble under an onslaught of emotion. He wanted everything Mr. Graves wanted to give him; he was trapped, on the edge of everything he ever wanted. It almost seemed too good to be true. 

How could he be so lucky? 

Credence was torn out of his thoughts by Mr. Graves's voice, dangerously low as he murmured, "Only ten, I promise. Then I'll make you feel good. Okay Credence? That's a good boy, you're already being so good for me." 

Large hands running over his plump ass as he offered himself shameless to the other man. 

At the ease in which Credence obeyed him, Percival couldn’t help but smile. There was a slight tremor of tension between the boy’s shoulder blades but he was too enraptured in what was no doubt to come, to fully devote himself to soothing Credence.

Curiosity prodding Percival to spread Credence's ass cheeks and stare. The sight took his breath away: a perfect ring of muscle just waiting to be explored. Fascination and arousal battling it out as he was tempted to burying his face between those exquisite cheeks. He wanted to make the boy scream for him, but all in good tIme.

There was no hesitation as he slammed his hand down onto Credence's exposed ass. His eyes narrowing as the skin flushed a delicate red. The beautiful rosy tinge staining porcelain, capturing his attention as the redness continued to spread across Credence's skin. 

The picture was all the more tempting as Credence jerked when Percival’s hand hit him again, but no protests were uttered. Credence's hips pushing shyly back in anticipation. His charge was utter perfection, so soft and pliant beneath him.

A sudden hunger replacing any concerns that he might have considered as Credence moaned so prettily for him. The next nine smacks passing by too quickly for Percival's liking but a promise was a promise.

"Have you ever touched yourself here?" Percival's finger traced Credence's asshole gently. Teasing Credence with a light pressure, as the boy whimpered into his pillow. 

Credence could barely breathe let alone offer any denial. "Only you," he managed breathlessly.

Percival laughed, low and possessive at the earnest confession. It was much as he had expected. Credence was the epitome of purity and had he not caught the boy twisting amongst his sheets, he would have never dare to think he possessed a lusty demeanor, let alone that it would be focused on him as it was. 

"God," He whispered. Desire flooding through him with heady satisfaction. He had long wished to part the boy's thighs and discover if Credence tasted as sweet and demure as he acted in his presence. Perhaps if he had still been a good man, he wouldn't have ached so, wouldn't have such lecherous thoughts of ruining the sweet temptress before him. But the months he had spent in captivity had offered him no solace nor goodness of the world, instead he knew all too intimately how life ruined everything good and sweet. 

How else could he explain, how he'd come to be here? 

Credence might be willing to give himself to him, but Percival wanted to take - to carve a place inside Credence for him, and him alone to reside. Yet somehow, he still managed to illusion of kindness. For one moment, his words and voice managed to convey the tenderness he felt, "Such a gift you are giving me...but what if I only wanted to ruin and take." 

And just like that, the darkness inside him flourished, beating a rhythm against his ribcage - one reminiscent of times of old and war.

His magic was easy to call, sliding over his hand until his finger was slick and ready to fulfill all the unspoken promises he'd locked away for fear of abusing Credence's good nature. But now as his other hand smoothed up Credence's back to grab at the back of the boy's neck he had no reservations or doubt. His fingers digging roughly as he forced the boy's face further into the bed. His ass pushing higher off the bed in response to the rough handling.

"Take it," Credence sobbed, trying to impale himself on Percival's finger but to no avail. He was trapped, unable to do anything but offer himself wantonly. "Everything I am is yours." 

His words were sincere in their brokenness; heat roaring through him and making it hard to think of anything other than the hardness of his cock and how much he wanted the other man.

The Devil had made him want but his god would be merciful. Mr. Graves was offering him both relief and salvation. And Credence found himself answering with a loud cry as his ass cheeks were suddenly spread. A tongue replacing Percival's fingers; this time there was nothing teasing about his touch.

It flicked, hot and wet over his quivering hole and Credence responded shamelessly. His hips jerking back, demanding more as pleasure overtook any embarrassment he might have felt. He bucked against Mr. Grave's face as he was devoured.

His vision hazy as he found himself utterly consumed. His entire world dimming until air no longer came easily into his lungs. Albeit, he couldn't bring himself to care that he was being deprived of oxygen. Not when Mr. Grave's tongue was inside him, making obscene sounds as he feasted on what Credence freely gave.

The world had almost completely disappeared, Credence not hesitating to welcome such a glorious death. However, it was cruelly ripped from him as Mr. Graves moved away.

"No," Credence lamented, desperately trying to force his limbs over to look upon his lord and master. His head twisting to the side as air returned to him, too little consequence because there was nothing inside him and he felt empty - forsaken.

"No, no, no!" He sobbed. Fear coursing through him as he begged for Percival to return to him even if the man hadn't actual left. The few inches between them proving too much for Credence; he needed Percival to touch him more than he needed air.

To his reprieve, his prayers were answered by a soft, "Shush," followed by a harsh smack to one ass cheek. 

Credence couldn't help but moan, his body pressing closer in response to the sudden fire spreading through him. His cock leaking at Percival's heavy hand and he craved more. 

His head shaking in unintended defiance as Percival's words washed over him, demanding his attention, "Breathe. I can't fuck you if you're dead. Is that understood Credence?" 

Mr. Grave's voice brokered no argument as his hand caressed the area he'd just stuck. All Credence had to do was nod and all would be forgiven; he knew it but he couldn't do it. He wanted more, and perhaps defiance was the key. Breaking the rules had gotten him this far already - maybe, maybe it could give him everything.

No sound escaped, even as Credence trembled, so close to nodding but forcing himself to wait for Mr. Graves to deem him worthy of his hand.

His defiance was rewarded; his body jerking as he was slapped again in the exact same spot. His cock twitching pathetically in response. The sheets beneath him smeared with his excitement and need.

"Your words Credence. Use your words. Do you understand me?"

Credence nodded again, his voice cracking as he tried to obey. "Y-yes...please Mr. Graves..."

"Please what?"

Confusion made Credence's forehead scrunch up. He didn't quite know how to answer. He knew he wanted something, he wanted to fill the emptiness he'd felt his entire life but he didn't know how to articulate it. Somehow he managed a conflicted, "Yes." 

But he was thrown asunder when Percival demanded clarification, "Yes, what?" 

There was humor in the other man's voice, as if he knew just what Credence wanted but enjoyed toying with him. It made Credence want to scream, but more importantly it forced him to think - to put a name to all the desires he'd refused to recognize or confess to. What did he want? He needed Percival's touch, needed to be used and taken, to take Mr. Graves into his body as he'd already taken him into his soul but how did he voice that? 

What words did Mr. Graves want to hear?

He was pulled out his internal turmoils as Credence sensed rather than felt Mr. Graves's hand raise once more and suddenly clarity was his. 

In that brief second, he managed to contort himself just enough to catch Percival's eyes, "Please...save me Mr. Graves."

The effect was instant. Credence found himself on his back, legs spread wide as Percival towered over him. Two fingers filling the emptiness inside him as his god answered his prayers. HIs body arching violently as he came - untouched and fulfilled.

The filthy weight of cum on his skin offered no shameful feeling as Credence gasped into Mr. Graves's mouth. His body lifting as he was ruthlessly finger-fucked by his lord and master.

No other god could make him feel like this, so entirely whole and worshipped. Even as he was ever the worshipper. His hands curling desperately into Mr. Grave's shoulders as he cried out his praises. His nails breaking skin as he himself was healed. 

With disbelieving wonder, he found himself growing hard. HIs cock responding as if he hadn't already cum ten minutes before. In the small moment he allowed himself bask in this amazing discovery, he found himself rearranged. His legs wrapped him around Mr. Grave's waist as something hot and hard sought to replace Percival's fingers. Credence didn't even get a chance to mourn the loss before Percival was penetrating him.

It was simultaneously too much and not enough. There was no hesitation as Percival's cock slid into him. Every rocking motioning of Mr. Graves's hips forcing Credence's body to let him deeper and Credence revealed in it. His hips lifting desperately, needing more than the slow constant submission of his body to a higher power.

Mr. Graves's dick was long and impossibly thick but there was no pain only euphoria. Or perhaps there was but it blurred in comparison to what he was being given. 

All gods demanded a sacrifice and this was such a small one, so easily given.

Credence managed another small, "Please," before Percival answered. His body shifting up the bed with every thrust. His eyes struggling to stay open as his body gleefully took what was given. 

Somehow he managed to stay conscious through it all. Desperately clinging to the vision of Mr. Graves on top of him as he slammed into him. It was surreal what he saw in those dark depths: the passion, the need, the devotion. Everything he felt, mirrored back at him and driving him even higher than he thought possible.

His whole life had lead to this, his body meant to quench Mr. Graves' thirst. The need to rip himself away and take to his knees temporarily overwhelming him. To worship this man and the cock inside him like they both deserved overtaking him.

Percival must have seen the desire brewing inside of him because he deprived him the pleasure. 

A rough tortured sound escaping but there was no denying god's will. All it took was two letters, one syllable and all was forgotten.

His body responding eagerly as teeth dug into his neck and collarbone. He lost himself in the sensations, and as a hand closed around his cock, he sobbed. 

Finally, it was just the right size and the palm rough against tender skin.

It didn't take long for all reason to flee him. His fingernails daring to mark the god above him in his fevered passion. Credence managed a half-formed apology before he was coming. 

This time there was no relief. Percival's hand continuing to milk him as his thrusts grew rougher.

Darkness beckoned as tears slipped from his eyes. Credence struggled to stay conscious least Percival stop. He never wanted Mr. Graves to stop, even as the pleasure grew dangerously high in its intensity. His mouth not listening to his body as he begged for more.

And Mr. Graves listened, acknowledging every wrecked plea that left his swollen lips. He continued to ravage him even as Credence's cock refused to obey. His fight to stay awake and not succumb to the easy seduction of blackness was a losing battle. Still he heard himself sob, begging and pleading until he knew no more.

Sleep claimed him quickly but it did not hold him for long. Eventually he managed to rouse himself. He felt a warmth at his back and soft lips teasing his neck. 

It was the tenderness in the action, seeping through this quiet moment and after everything they'd done, he felt tiny almost infinitesimal but the fire burning inside him and the stickiness between his thighs contradicted that.

He was twice-blessed and chosen.

His hand moving to intertwine with the one resting on his belly. The lips on his skin increasing their pressure as their owner spoke, "Are you alright Credence?"

Mr. Graves's voice was low and heated despite the way he'd already ravished him. Credence managed to nod as sleep threatened to claim him once more.

"Use your words Credence."

The change in tone made Credence tremble, flushing as he remembered Percival's hands on his ass before he'd taken him. "Y-yes, Mr. Graves. Was I - was I good for you?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Their clasped hands moving to turn Credence's head to face Percival. The angle wasn't quite right but the kiss Mr. Graves gave him was just as passionate as those before. His words even more-so, "You were the best αγάπη μου."

Credence couldn't help but smile as the familiar phrase was spoken. He didn't know what it meant but he enjoyed the soft tone every time Percival spoke to him in Greek. He had no real desire to learn the language since every time Percival directed it at him it felt like a precious secret just between them. 

"Mhm," he hummed, stealing one more kiss before snuggling closer. HIs eyes shutting as Percival touched him gently. 

"Why do you not call me by my name?" Percival asked, the question catching Credence off guard as his descent in Morpheus's kingdom called out to him. His body lazy and sated, Credence offered a small shrug. A smile on his lips as he confessed quietly, "You do not call a God by their true name. I may be sinful but you still deserve reverence."

His smile growing at the small puffs of laughter that warmed his skin in response. He was pleased that that his answer seemed to please Mr. Graves. He meant every word. Perhaps if he was more awake and less debauched he would have stumbled and hide the truth but as they lay there, he felt no regrets - only happiness.

Still he managed to stay awake a little longer as Percival spoke again, "My name is Percival, Credence. But I'll be your god."

Credence smiled, letting the name trace his lips before dozing off, "Percival~"

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by and dedicated to SweetSorcery. I hope y'all enjoyed (:
> 
> Please leave a comment, I'd love to talk to yah! <3


End file.
